


Game Time

by ajsucker



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Fluff, M/M, like lots of fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2014-03-15
Updated: 2014-03-22
Packaged: 2018-01-15 20:17:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1317874
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ajsucker/pseuds/ajsucker
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Harry thinks Zayn's super fit even though he doesn't like football, he thinks Zayn's totally into him and really, who cares if Louis keeps telling him to stay away? </p><p>(or: in which Harry's into Zayn, Louis refuses to accept them, and Niall constantly pushes them together)</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hmm okay so disclaimer/apology: I know nothing about football (or soccer for my fellow Americans). Everything I got about football/ the FIFA is through google, apologies if I get something wrong, feel free to let me know and I'll make changes. 
> 
> This mostly started as an ask for an anon on tumblr, it really got out of control, especially since the ask will be done in the second part of this. But yeah, enough of my rambles.

Harry’s feeling good.

He’s feeling so bloody good he can barely contain himself. He can still feel the adrenaline rushing through him, he feels almost high on it, a little buzz under his skin that makes him want to go back out for another round and relive that moment. Sit in it until it becomes a part of him.

The nerves as he set up to take the shot, the roaring of the crowd surrounding him, the way his heart thumped in his chest, fuck— so loud he could practically hear it pounding in his ears as he took the shot. He only had one chance, and Harry—he knew he could do it. Knew that he had it in him, but it felt like forever, like the ball would never leave his foot and reach the post.

Harry felt like he would never see it slip through the goalie’s fingers and make it in, bounce against the netting until all he heard was the roar of the crowd and all he saw was a sea of green until he was lifted in the air.

Harry kind of wants to rewind the time, but he loves the way people stop to give him a little slap on the back now, loves the high fives and the cheers, the pats on his ass when he passes the really pissed frat boys in the room.

"Great game Haz," someone tells him when he slides by them and Harry nods and waves. He can’t even fight the grin that takes over his face because it was. They were so close to losing it, just couldn’t get it together in the beginning, but somehow between Louis speech and a moment of knowing that this could be their last match—they did it.

Harry’s never been more proud of his boys, doesn’t think he ever could be. He heads towards the back of the house, because the party’s for everyone but the back is for _them_. He shoves the glass door open and Harry can hear the uproar already, slides it behind him as he steps down, the smell of cigarettes and alcohol heavy in the air. Harry walks around the compound and hears Louis’ voice as he gets closer to the group, knows it’s him and laughs when he sees him jumping about in the air, arms flailing wildly in the air.

No one tells a story like Louis, no one. Harry settles down beside Niall who’s doubled over on the ground laughing and tucks his knees upward, stretches backwards to grab a bottle from a cooler as he listens.

—-

Harry’s not quite pissed yet but he’s loose enough to know he will be soon enough, feels sleepy slow and curls himself closer into Louis shoulder with a half filled bottle between his thigh.

"You feeling good about our match up next week?" Harry nods his head as he wraps a hand around the neck of his bottle, twists it between his thighs and thinks about next week.

"We got a good chance," he says and sucks in his bottom lip. "If we play like we did the second half of tonight we got this Lou." Harry pulls away and smiles. "We can go all the way this time, I feel it yeah."

"Hell yeah we can," Harry hears Niall holler from all the way across the room with his bottle in the air. He laughs and raises his in return, pokes at Louis shoulder until he raises his cup and soon enough all of his boys have their drinks in the air. Harry doesn’t even know who yells out _all the way_ but suddenly they’re all chanting it and fuck, Harry feels alive with all the love and willpower to do this fueling him.

He kind of wants to make a speech, talk about everything he’s feeling but he gets up and sways, loses his balance and almost topples over. He almost falls, but he feels an arm circling his waist, feels someone swaying with him until they’re both solid and stable. 

"Careful Haz, Zayn there is precious goods, don’t damage the property." Harry doesn’t really get it, but he feels the way the guy, _Zayn’s_ , chest rumbles and shakes as he laughs.

"Fuck off, Lou," Harry hears Zayn say behind him. "You okay, yeah?" Harry looks up and _oh_ , maybe he should be careful not to damage the goods because Zayn’s pretty. Brown eyes, long lashes, and insane cheekbones that cannot even be real. Zayn smiles and all Harry can do is nod like a bloody idiot and take a step backwards until he’s slowly settled back down.

"You wanna sit, yeah?" Louis asks and Harry just stares when Zayn sits next to him and snatches up Louis cup to take a sip of it. He gags soon after, drops it down carelessly. Harry takes in the way his eyebrows pull in and his bottom lip juts out in this almost pout thing because he’s so disgusted by whatever he drank.

Louis just laughs beside him when Zayn groans, "the fuck is in there."

"Secret recipe," Louis grins and downs a mouthful of his cup. "You should know by now not to touch my stuff mate."

"You're an absolute arse, you know that right?" Louis doesn't even answer, just shrugs his shoulders and tips back his cup again. "My fucking flats being looked at, you mind if I bum with you for a bit?"

"Old Paul's finally doing his job right?"

"Barely, I told him I’d tell his wife about the guy I keep seeing creeping up to his place." Louis busts out laughing and Zayn does the same. Harry has no clue what's so funny but Zayn's eyes crinkle around the edges and he stares at the long of his neck when he tips his head back just a hint and smiles. Zayn uses a hand to balance himself as he stands up and nods. "Thanks mate." Louis shrugs but nods his head.

"You know where the key is, yeah."

"Yep." Zayn claps him on the shoulder, sidesteps the bottles and cups gathered on the grass and walk off. Harry waits a moment before springing upward, almost knocks over his bottle, stumbles but balances himself somehow. He ignores Louis laughing, mentally flips him off as he moves to catch up with Zayn.

"Hi," Harry huffs out when he catches up just before the glass door, shoves his hands into his back pocket. "`m Harry."

"Zayn," he answers and bursts out laughing instantly, his body doubled over shaking with the force of it. He comes up slowly and Harry tries not to look so confused but he's sure he's not too successful. "Sorry mate, sorry, just wondering how long it'd take you to make a move. You were burning a hole through the side of my face back there."

"Well it's your fault, your face is stupid dumb," Harry accuses, points a finger up at it for effect. Zayn chuckles and Harry just loves how his face lights up every time he laughs, how much his features soften up with it.

“My face is stupid dumb?” He repeats and Harry nods avidly because it’s true.

"I can be smooth ya' know, but your face is stupid…” Harry trails off, not sure what to finish his thought with until he just blurts out, “it’s distracting.”

"Hmm, I'm sure you can totally be smooth." Harry goes with it when Zayn slides a hand around his waist and pulls him forward, slides it under the hem of his jumper.

"`m just saying, I totally have moves."

"Of course." Harry giggles when he feel Zayn mouth at the spot just below the line his jaw, a hint of teeth scraping against it until he shoves him off and scratches at the spot himself. "Totally smooth, babe," Zayn teases and pulls him back in with both hands on his ass, palms them openly and squeezes.

"It tickles," Harry whines and groans when Zayn pulls him closer, close enough that he can feel outline of his cock through his jeans, feel just how hard it is against his. "Umm, people can see." Harry takes a quick glance around because clearly modesty doesn't matter to Zayn. No one's really looking at them but they're standing in front of glass and it only takes a second to get a good look at Zayn basically groping him.

"You have a room then? Probably wouldn't like it if I sucked your cock out here." Harry's sure he makes a stupidly comical face because it feels like his eyes nearly pop out of his head.

"You tryna' kill me." Zayn just smiles and lowers his forehead on his, brushes his lips against his softly. "oh yeah, you get me with your dumb face and kill me with your mouth."

 

"You figured it you yeah, you got my master plan." Harry squeals when he feels Zayn cup his cock, the light pressure of his hand just resting there. But he thrusts into it, lowers his hips down into the hold there.

 

"Yeah okay," he mumbles and flicks his tongue at Zayn's lips. "Les' go, now, let's..." he trails off and sadly tugs his hand away, wraps a hand around his wrist and shoves the door open, doesn't even bother to shut it back as he makes his way through people still congratulating him and nodding in his direction. He's pretty sure Niall will never let him live it down but Harry heads upstairs for his room, pulls it open and breathes a sigh of relief when he sees it empty.

 

"You're popular," Zayn says as he slides in after him, kicks the door shut and walks Harry back towards the bed until he topples backward into the mattress.

 

"Played a good game," Harry tries to keep it casual but just thinking about it makes him feel a burst of pride.

 

"Uh huh," Zayn mumbles but doesn't seem to care much, doesn't even bother to look up at Harry as he slides down to his knees and fiddles with his belt buckle, tugs and pulls until the buckle is loose, the button freed, and his zipper's pulled low. Harry thinks Zayn's pretty, like almost unfairly good looking but there's nothing better than seeing him frustrated, his bottom lip sucked in because he's so focused with his forehead scrunched up and eyebrows pulled in concentration. He watches for a bit, laid back on his elbows with his hips hitched upward, tries to keep his smile hidden while Zayn struggles to tug his jeans off.

It takes a minute before Zayn finally huffs and groans, "fuck."

 

"Here," Harry says, deciding to take the lead. "Just gotta' wiggle through it." He pulls down and shakes his hips until his jeans are low enough and his boxers are good and visible, his cock tenting the material.

 

"Fucking tight ass jeans," Zayn mumbles but he pulls at the waistband of Harry’s boxers and lowers it enough for his cock to bob out and lie flat against his stomach. Harry feels like he should just be enjoying. He can barely keep his eyes open when Zayn sucks in the head of his cock, swallows down halfway, but all he can focus on is the way his cheeks hollows in even more when he sucks and the stretch of his lips and jaw from the thickness of his cock. Harry’s always been restless and it shows even more when he’s getting sucked off, he just can't keep his hips down but it gets even worse when he catches the movement in Zayn’s left hand and realizes he’s fucking beating off.

"Uh," Harry groans out and cranes his neck to the side to catch the head disappearing through his fist as he strokes. He knows there’s something wrong with him when it becomes less about the feeling of the blowjob and more about Zayn and the trail of spit that leaves his lips when he pulls off or the way his cock looks pressed against his face when he lowers his head to suck on his balls. Harry thinks there’s something very wrong with his blowjob taking a back seat to another being as a whole. He tries to block that out when he feels his toes twitching and curling because it’s so good and Zayn takes him in again, sucks so hard and so loud making this gargling like noise that rings through Harry's ears. He tries to take it all in, tries to keep his eyes on Zayn and see what he can because he knows that watching him is a _thing_.

But when his toes curl and all he can do is fist the sheets as Zayn pulls off, Harry barely warning him with a one word, “cum.” He shuts his eyes helplessly and rides out the waves of his orgasm, hopes it doesn’t get all over Zayn and then kind of hopes it does, because opening his eyes to see Zayn covered in his cum would be so, so hot. He opens his eyes to see a spray of cum on his shirt instead, Zayn’s hands coated in most of it as he leans his head on Harry’s thigh.

Harry takes a moment to just breathe, takes in bass pounding from downstairs and the chattering he can hear right outside the room. “You should come up here,” he says when he’s collected himself enough to actually form sentences. Harry lifts his head and stretches his arms up a bit, pulls his shirt up enough to scratch at his chest, right underneath the cum spot.

"I’m good," Zayn answers as he stands, wipes his hands on the sheets and starts pulling at his own pants to put them back together. "I gotta get going." Harry’s not, he gets it, it’s a party and an easy hook up. He knows all about it but he still sits up and tugs at Zayn’s arm when he’s done straightening himself up.

"Stay for a bit, yeah." It’s just an offer but it hurts a bit Zayn pulls away and shrugs his shoulders. "We can have a drink."

"Sorry mate, I really gotta head out. This was fun though." All Harry can do is watch as Zayn pulls the door open and walks off, throws a little wave as the noise and music fills the room, louder and so much more prominent.

\---

Louis lives on the other side of campus which means Harry either has to walk or take a shuttle to get to his flat. The shuttle won't be around for another hour so Harry walks instead of waiting, takes his time as he makes his way through the quad and down the path, stops to check out the newest graffiti on The Wall. It's a reminder to join a shit organization, most of them are usually for some kind of promotion, but Harry loves the way the shades of blue and green, the swirls in the design and how clear and eye-catching from miles away. He loves the subtly in the design too, it's probably his favorite thing about it, that it's never too over the top.

It takes him fifteen minutes to get to Louis' place and another five to have a chat with Ms. Winnie, the sweet old lady that hangs around the steps of the next building over and never fails to ask Harry to marry one of her grand kids. It started with her girls until he told her he was gay, then it became all about her grandson Grimmy who's apparently such a catch. Harry still doesn't know how to tell her no and mostly dances around the subject whenever they talk.

"Come in," Harry hears Louis call out through the door after he knocks, opens it to see him absorbed by a FIFA game. It's no surprise now to see that he didn't bother to get up.

"I coulda' been a crazy murderer," Harry feels the need to point out as he shuts the door behind him and almost questions if Louis even hears him until he sees him glance over for a second.

"Yeah? Murderers knock now?" Harry shrugs and takes a seat beside him on the couch, reaches for the free controller on the table and places it on the lap. "Up for the next round?"

"You bet."

It takes Louis losing to the computer and swearing that he was cheated for a minute before the next game starts up. They play rock, paper, scissors for Manchester and Harry tries not to feel too bitter about having to play as Liverpool. It's a little hard with the way Louis wags his arse in his face _and the fact that he has to play as Liverpool_.

 

"So, uh...about Zayn," Harry finally gets out because he knows if he waits too long he'll never get it out. Louis' in the middle of picking his players but he stops everything to look over at him.

 

"What about him?" Harry shrugs, he really didn't think too far about what he wanted this conversation to add up to. "Don't even bother with it, Zayn's not a good match for you."

 

"Oh yeah, why not?"

"He's a delicate flower okay?" Louis drops his controller, turn to him and Harry tries to bite back his laugh. "I'm serious, it's all fun and games but Zayn doesn't do hookups." Harry wants to call out last night but it just reminds him of the way Zayn looked on his knees for him and _fuck_ that's probably crossing some kind of line. "Focus on Caroline mate."

Harry flips him off just on principle, tries not to think about what a disaster the whole Caroline thing ended up being. He still feels awkward passing her office when he's headed off to the grand lecture hall. But it's something hearing Louis say Zayn doesn't hook up, last night definitely felt like one. Harry lets it go though, the last thing he needs is Louis pissed at him.

 

Harry always ends up regretting playing FIFA with Louis somewhere in the midst of playing against Louis. Because Louis is the only person out there that could possibly be more competitive than him. On top of that, Louis' a general arsehole about FIFA. He loses like an arse and wins like an arse. There's no space to feel excited playing with him because Louis' victory and misery overtakes everything. Harry wins the first round and before he can even think about cheering, Louis' demanding a rematch and setting up the clubs.

 

It's in the middle of the rematch that he turns his head for a second, catches Zayn dropping a skateboard with a mask dangling from his neck and headphones draped over them. He tries not to catalog the fact that Zayn skates or take in the tattoos on his arms or the sweat dripping down his tank but really, he's only human. Harry knows he's fucked too because Zayn's _everything_ is a distraction--if his face can pull him away from a blowjob, there's no saying what damage it'll have here.

"Hi," Harry says because he can't imagine just ignoring him.

 

"Hey, I said that like five minutes ago but..." Zayn trails off with a shrug and kicks off his trainers, steps towards the couch and sits on the arm of it, his legs spread widely with their knees just barely touching. Harry's so aware of it, the little gap keeping them apart and he knows his attention is beyond split at the moment, tries to train himself to the TV but he has no chance. He's so unfocused he lets Louis actually walk a goal right into the net, huffs when he jumps off the seat and fist pumps in excitement.

 

"Hell fucking yeah." He yells out and points about Harry's face until all he can do is nod in acknowledgment. The game's far from over but Louis dances and fist bumps Zayn, heads towards the back of the living room. "Gotta' get ready for practice," He finally announces and starts singing about how all he does is win, his voice drifting as he heads towards the bedroom.

 

"Can't believe I let him beat me," Harry mumbles solemnly at no one in particular really, but Zayn chuckles.

 

"Can't believe you play those dumb games."

 

"What, the XBOX?"

 

"No," Zayn answers with a shake of his head. "Football, it sucks mate," he says softly, nodding his head and that's just wrong.

 

"Umm," Harry's so taken aback that he doesn't even know how to respond. "You ever tried it?" He finally settles on trying to calm his inner outrage. It's safe to say he's a little more than a football fan, he doesn't really respond well to haters.

 

"You mean like pushing random buttons while Louis laughs about winning?"

 

"Oh you gotta' play now," Harry says and shoves his controller at him, ignores the way Zayn tries to wave him off to explain because this is just an injustice. "You use this to control your players yeah? Then press a to pass to someone, b to shoot, and x to cross." Harry pushes down on the buttons as he tells him and then points. "See this here, hold this down to run."

 

Harry has to laugh when he sees the way Zayn looks at him, both hopeless and helpless as if that's too much for him to handle. He taps his knees with his and presses the start button. "Try passing, come on." Harry watches as he passes it and it ends up with the other team. It takes everything in him to keep it together because it take four times, but on his fifth Zayn actually gets it to his own player and then hoots and cheers, throws his hands in the air in excitement. He pulls Harry into a hug and Harry's pretty sure his heart melts or explodes or _something_ inside him.

 

"I fucking got it!"

 

Harry nods as they pull away, basically grinning from ear to ear along with Zayn when Louis comes in.

 

"No," Louis says quickly, a finger pointed at him and snatches him by the collar of his jumper. Harry can't even bring himself to lie and pretend he doesn't know what Louis' going on about. He waves his goodbye to Zayn, chuckles as Zayn waves him off, knows that he's completely hooked on him.

 ---

  
"Tell me why I shouldn't knock your block off." Harry's already pinned to the ground. Niall looks harmless for the most part, always so lively and up for a good time, so Harry forgets how strong his is and just how aggressive he can get when pushed.

"Can't breathe," Harry's barely able to get out with Niall's entire body planted and pressed over his and pushing him into the hardwood floor.

  
"Tell me." Harry nearly chokes when Niall follows up by thrusting his body down against his, his hips banging on his ass.

"Best mate," he tries and groans when Niall responds with another thrust. "Team...football." He doesn't get up completely but Harry counts it as a win when Niall just turns over and sits on him back. "How'd you know?"

"I have eyes everywhere you knob," he hisses and pinches his bum making Harry buck up. "Heard he was quite fit too."

  
"Fuck yeah he was," Harry blurts out easily, doesn't take a moment when he thinks about just how good looking Zayn is.

  
"Eh, is it serious? You fancy him."

 

"Maybe," Harry says with a shrug. "I don't know, Louis says no."

 

"Louis? Is he his mum now? He gets to decide who you get to go out with?"

 

"He's Zayn's best mate I think. I don't want to make it weird."

 

Niall hops off him and Harry takes his hand when he sees it stretched out for him to grab. "Well as your best mate, I say go get him if you really fancy him."

 

"You're a bad influence." Harry laughs when Niall pulls him to him and drops a hand around his shoulder.

 

"It's why we get along so well young Harry, I share my wisdom and you take it."


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so this is stupid late because it's been a rough week. I changed it to three parts but everything should be rounded off in the last chapter.

Harry’s known Louis for about eight months, since he transferred over from Morgans. They bonded quickly, but Louis has the type of personality that attracts most people to him. A little loud, a little obnoxious, but still great for a good time.

He’s known Niall since his first year in uni, when they tried out for the football team together and just clicked. He bonded with Louis but with Niall it felt like they gravitated toward each other. Harry still remembers sitting in the bleachers waiting for his turn during try outs, spotting Niall across the field randomly. Ever since then it felt like they were best mates.

Niall’s been there every step of the way, like when the team was basically worthless, getting the bottom of the barrel funding from the school because they were losing every other game. Through their shit captains that pushed them twice as hard when rumors of the club being cut came up because the uni couldn’t handle wasting the pounds on them. They picked it up from nothing, not just him and Niall, but Harry knows their impact in making the team the contender it is today. It’s not like he’s trying to be cocky but dammit, they’re fucking ace.

So Harry’s known Niall longer and it’s only right that he takes his advice—it’s totally right.

Louis talks a lot about hating his courses, because it’s always big lecture halls with professors that drone on and on. Harry thinks it’s because Louis likes hearing himself talk more than listening. He knows Louis has a course about Shakespeare or something, knows that even with all the complaining Louis sitting front row with his laptop open carefully taking notes. He knows he never misses a class no matter how fucked up he gets.

He doesn’t know Zayn’s schedule, but he hopes for the best when he knocks at the door and waits for a response.

He gets nothing.

Harry takes a chance, knocks again and gets nothing… _again_. He thinks about waiting it out, but he turns around just in time to hear the lock turning from the other side.

"`s better be life or death," he hears someone grumble from the other side, slow and rough with sleep. Harry feels like an absolute arse when he realizes that he woke Zayn up, sees him looking scattered and confused with his hair flopped forward, scratching at his side as he pulls the door open.

"Uh," he mutters intelligently when Zayn leans against the side of the door expectantly. His hand moves up from his side to scratching at his chest, itching at the spot just below his nipple which is distracting really. "Um." Harry cleverly follows up, his eyes trained to that spot which draws a raspy chuckle out of Zayn.

"As smooth as ever eh." Harry knows that the bedroom voice is a thing, he’s been with more than enough people to be turned on by sound in the morning, tone a drop lower and rougher, husky and heavy because they’re too tired, still fresh from disuse. It’s enough to take away the foul morning breath and however crappy they look from rolling around all night. Harry thinks Zayn looks _human_ , slumped over with crusty eyes as ashy ankles and toes.

Harry’s still slobbering over him helplessly.

He still totally would.

"It’s the guilt," he admits honestly.

"Guilt?" he repeats and he looks generally amused before letting out a yawn, arms stretched over his head as he groans with it. "You coming in, you can tell me all `bout it." Harry does as he’s told when Zayn nods him inside. He shuts the door behind him, lets out his own yawn in the process.

"You were sleeping," Harry states, settling down beside Zayn when he pulls at the pillow and covers on the couch, tosses the pillow off and tucks himself under the cover.

"Smooth and observant, you’re quite the catch yeah."

"Okay, I see why you and Louis get on so well," Harry says because he has to, it's easy to see how they rub off on each other.

Zayn laughs though, adds in, “and a flatterer.”

"I think you should let me take you out for a cuppa, since I woke you up and all I mean," Harry blurts out before he loses his nerve, watches as Zayn smiles and nods along.

"Yeah, I should. You did wake me up and I was having quite a good kip." He gets up slowly rubbing at his face. "Lemme just go get dressed yeah?"

"Sure." Harry thinks he gets away with answering pretty casually despite the rapid fire beating of his heart.

 

* * *

 

Harry waits...

 

...and stares blankly at the television

 

He waits...

 

....and fiddles with his mobile, shooting a text to Niall and then scrolls through his Facebook

 

and waits...

 

...flips on the TV and flips randomly through some channels

 

waits...

 

...considers checking in on Zayn 'cause it's been about thirty minutes

 

waits...

 

...turns on the XBOX and gets sucked into a game of FIFA instead

 

"Hey," he hears Zayn call out, sees him scratching at the back of his head with a hesitant smile on his lips. "Sorry it took so long there."

 

Harry thinks he should be wound up about it because it took about an hour and he's just about to set up to win the game. But he takes in Zayn and how good he looks in something so simple as a red jumper and jeans. Harry's too easy because he shrugs and jumps up.

 

"'s okay, got to get a game in. Good to see you're not like dead or something though."

 

"Ha ha," he lets out with an obnoxious over the top chuckle as they leave the room. "You're too funny."

 

* * *

 

 

Harry takes him to Mel's because it really is the absolute best spot to get a cuppa. It's a small place, basically built out of a home and usually pretty free and quiet except for exam time. Harry's had to leave and come back multiple times before his psych test once because the line went outside the door.

 

"This place special to you?" Zayn asks and Harry knows it's because it doesn't look like much both from the outside and even inside it. It's homey to the nth degree, with sofas instead of chairs and coffee tables instead of actual tables. It's bizarre really, and Harry gets it because he still doesn't know how to take in the setup in the room.

 

"You'll love it," Harry says firmly and nods at the girl at the counter. She must be new because he's never seen her before, but he still takes a seat at what's become his regular table. It's at the corner of the room, secluded enough that people walking past the place don't see him through the windows. "Best cup of tea ever and fresh scones everyday." Harry nods, smiling brightly because despite the look he has nothing but good feelings associated with this spot.  Zayn looks a little unconvinced, but he's smiling and Harry holds on to that.

  
"Okay, prove it." Harry does just that, heads to the counter to other two large cups and a blueberry scone. He heads back with just that, the mugs hot and smoking with it.

 

"Takes some time to cool down," Harry says, nodding at the cup while he uses a fork to piece into his scone, loves watching the way it always falls apart so easily. "Try it, here." Harry cuts a piece and shoves the plate towards Zayn, watches as he grabs it and bites into it. He's quite pleased when Zayn nods instantly after chewing, knows that it's a good sign and grins.

 

"It's so good, oh um," he stammers out and grabs at another piece.

 

"Told you so," Harry rubs in shamelessly, laughs when Zayn waves him off and instead stuffs his face with more of the scone.

 

"Tell me something about you," Zayn says with his mouth half full and Harry knows it's something serious when he's charmed instead of disgusted at the fact that he's _talking with his mouth full_.  Harry feels him tap at his foot with his, sets down his mug carefully. He's halfway through his cup and Zayn's working on his second scone, takes another bite into it.

 

"Uh." It's not a hard question, there's a lot that he could say actually. He loves football, spends most of his time either practicing or playing when he's not buried in his studies. He has an older sister that he loves dearly even though she makes it her life mission to embarrass him at every turn, constantly posting baby pictures on his Facebook wall and using Niall to pry into his personal life. His mum bugs him about not calling enough and his dad asks about his games every time, always sounding so excited and proud. Harry feels like he could talk Zayn's ear off for hours if he tried but he shuts down and says instead, "I love being right, pretty proud I proved you wrong about this place."

 

Zayn laughs but he nods his head and Harry takes it as a win. "I still can't get over this scone, honestly, it might be one of the best things I've ever eaten." Harry swears that Zayn actually pouts before he takes the last bite of it. "I'm absolute shit in a kitchen. Would you believe me if I said I burned down the kitchen once trying to make cookies?"

 

"Yeah?"

 

Zayn nods, laughing as if he's remembering the moment vivdly. "It was Louis' idea really, said we should make some cause we ran out and we didn't even put anything together yet. I tried to turn the oven on and a fire broke out." He shakes his head and Harry can't keep the smile off his lips as he listens. "Burned like half the kitchen, my mum and dad were dead on pissed."

 

Harry hums. "How long have you known Louis?" it's a question that's been on his mind for a while now.

 

"Since primary school, year two actually. He saved me from being picked on by big Bobby." Zayn grimaces and Harry finds himself frowning with him. "Got his arse kicked though, he was so banged up and he still got in trouble for it. I told my mum about it when i got home and we baked some food to send over. By we I mean my mum of course, but we've been mates ever since."

 

"Is that why he's so...protective over you?"

 

Zayn shakes his head and chuckles, "Nah, that's really just a joke." Harry wonders if he knows about Louis telling him off but doesn't ask about it.

 

"You skate," Harry says more than asks really as he thinks back to seeing him prop his board up at Louis apartment.

 

"It makes work easier really," Zayn says as he nods, takes a large gulp of the tea. Harry knows his tea still has to be pretty hot, not scalding, but he's still surprised at the way Zayn drinks with abandon.

 

"What do you do exactly?"

 

"Graffiti mostly." Harry think it explains the mask he remembers catching around his neck. "The uni usually has me do little things for their clubs or whatever." Zayn shrugs it off as if it's no big deal but Harry remembers the graffiti from The Wall, thinks back to the one time Louis pointed out the name Zed and said he knew the guy. It all connects so quickly it almost makes his head spin and Harry just gapes stupidly while Zayn's flushing with his cup over his face as if he's embarrassed or something.

 

"Stop that," he admonishes and glares him down, shoves at the cup until it's placed on the table. "I know your work, you're fucking amazing. Don't be a twit and blow yourself off."

 

"'m not," Zayn denies but Harry rolls his eyes and shakes his head.

 

"Yeah you are, trying to hide in your cup. There's nothing worse than someone that's bloody brilliant and can't see it." Harry knows by the way Zayn's worrying at his bottom lip that he can't handle the compliment but he stares him down regardless, takes one of his hands in his and interlaces his fingers just because. Harry refuses to let go, refuses to take his eyes off him until Zayn releases his bottom lip.

 

"Okay."

 

"Okay," Harry repeats and grins, rubs his thumb against Zayn's knuckle.

 

"This is a date yeah?" Zayn doesn't wait for an answer, nods himself as if he's answering his own question. "You should come back with me so we can finish it off proper."

 

Harry really didn't plan for this, honest, but he isn't enough of a dunce to say no.

 

_Okay_.

 

* * *

 

Zayn shoves Harry into the couch when they get in.

"This is better than his bed right?" He asks and Harry doesn't know how to answer that, shrugs his shoulder helplessly and thinks back to the weight of Niall laid over him because of what happened in his bed. Zayn nods, seems content when he lays himself over him, fingers at the hem of his shirt. "I think it's better."

 

"Yeah," Harry says easily, cranes his head upward to suck in his bottom lip, lets out a hiss when he feels Zayn's thumb brush against his nipple. Zayn pinches down on it, closes it in between his thumb and forefinger. Harry arches into the touch, his head pressed into the couch with his chest pushed up and out, seals a hand around his wrist until he pulls away, smiles knowingly.

 

"You like that." Zayn looks as if he's just discovered something massive. Harry watches as he pulls back and tugs up at the hem of his shirt. He shoves upward until Harry sits up and his shirt is thrown to the side. Harry lets out a breath when Zayn kisses his way up to his nipple, bites down on it with just enough pressure to smart. He can't hold back his moan, tangles his fingers at the nape of his neck and ruts upward helplessly.

 

"How," Harry starts and takes a second to catch his breath before trying again. "How much time do we have?"

 

"Not much." Zayn shakes his head and flicks his tongue against his nipple, draws a shiver out of Harry before lowering down to unbutton his shorts, pulls it down and off. "Don't think Louis'll wanna see you like this." Harry holds back on the knowledge that it's quite possible Louis would kill him if he saw him messing about with Zayn like this. "Gotta be quick about it."

 

"We can still have fu... _fuck_ ," he hisses out last minute when he feels Zayn sink his teeth into his thigh unexpectedly, pats blindly at his head until he reaches the spot. It bruises instantly, a spot of red marked with the indentation outlining it.

 

"Lift up for me." Harry doesn't think about it, just slides his hips down and pulls his legs in the air, uses his hands to keep his thighs up. Between his legs he can see the way Zayn gapes at the sight him, snorts at the expression and maybe he's a little smug too. "I see what football's good for now," Zayn mutters and Harry wants to think up a snarky comeback, but Zayn parts his ass and lowers his head and gets to work blowing softly at his hole.

Harry shivers and feels his hole flutter before him, his toes curling and straightening in the air.

"Gotta stay still babe." Harry wants to say that it's so much easier said than done but Zayn sinks his teeth into his ass and all that gets out is a sad little mewl. "I really like doing that." Zayn rubs his thumb right into the spot, presses his thumb down into the little bruise as it reddens before him.

"Feels good," Harry says uselessly, reaches down to palm at his cock and gives it a weak stroke.

 

"Do that." Harry doesn't really get it until Zayn lowers his head again and his lips are pressed right at his balls. "Do it, will ya?" He does, strokes when he feels him mouthing at his balls, the delicious suction when Zayn sucks, his tongue flicking and licking down until he reaches his arsehole again. Harry doesn't get distracted by Zayn's face this time, mostly because he can't see him, but there's still the whole Zayn's face is buried between his arse and his tongue keeps doing this thing that makes Harry choke on fucking air. Plus him fisting his cock and really, Zayn like buries his tongue in his ass and Harry loses all abandon and sloppy jacks off. His brain feels absolutely rattled and he can't be blamed for not being able to hold on long when feels himself body tingling and heating up until he's coming all over his chest, his legs dropping weakly on Zayn's back.

 

"Uh," Harry mutters and pats at Zayn head and neck. He wraps a hand around it and tugs lazily until Zayn takes the hint, pulls himself upward with his thighs tucked around Harry's waist. "You're like, stupid hot mate." Zayn smiles when he says that, throws his hips forward when Harry gets a fist around his cock. "Stupid fit, even your dick is hot."

 

"You know you don't have to work so hard to pull me anymore right?"

 

Harry scoffs, gets a tighter grip and flicks his thumb right on the spot below the head of his cock, loves the way Zayn responds with this tiny little moan that makes Harry's cock twitch just a bit. Not enough to get up again, but it's no surprise that Zayn would get that out of him.

 

"Good to know." Harry does it again just to hear that sound once more, focuses back on working him over. "But it's not...it's the truth." Zayn rolls his hips right up into Harry's fist, coughs up a little half laugh that ends in him sputtering and groaning until suddenly he's spurting right onto Harry's hand, some hitting his chest and one almost landing on his chin--it gets to his neck instead. "Fuck."

 

"Yeah," Harry mutters when Zayn drops himself down until he's laid out mostly on him but with as much of his weight as possible on the little bit of space on the couch. They should probably get themselves back together, throw some clothes on before Louis comes in, but Zayn looks comfortable and Harry feels comfortable and it's just _nice_. Harry knows it's also gross though, because he has come drying all over him and that never ends well, but he's willing to ride it out. And he's seen some of Zayn tattoos randomly, had a peek at the flower swirl on his left hand and remembers the ZAP on his other arm but he's never had full access to all of it like this.

 

Harry runs a finger across the one in the middle of his chest, two bird wings with red lips smacked right in the center. It's a little silly but he's afraid to say it out loud so he traces it twice over instead until Zayn lets out a little chuckle.

 

"It's a bit mad innit." Harry shrugs, wiggles his hips when he feels Zayn scratch against it as if it's punishment for being such a blatant liar. "It's my first one, I wanted to get something but I was worried about my parents. Doniya said if I get one that's complete shit maybe they'd freak out less."

 

"Uhhh," Harry mumbles and his face is pinches as he tries to figure out the logic in that.

 

"Yeah, that's about how well it went. My mum tries to scrub it off and my dad just about stared me into submission. Wasn't my best moment."

 

"You got more though," Harry points out and moves on to what looks like cards right above his ribs.

 

"My mum always asks if I'm addicted to it, I don't know, I just like it."

 

"Lemme guess, she doesn't?"

 

Zayn snorts, "nah, always reminds me that it's ruining me."

 

"She just doesn't get that you're too hot to be ruined, that face is impossible to cock up," Harry shakes his head earnestly even while Zayn rolls his eyes and gives his bum a little tap.

 

"You said Doniya?" Harry asks and moves down to the heart around his belly button.

 

"Yeah, my older sis. She gives the worst advice ever." He makes a face and Harry guesses they've gotten in a handful of trouble together. "There's her, Waliyah, and Safaa."

 

'They all older?"

 

Zayn shakes his head, says, "Waliyah and Safaa are younger, they're all trouble though." Zayn shivers. "'The three of them together is never good." But he's smiling too and Harry knows he says it out of love."

 

"That's why they're family." Harry thinks about his older sister and how much of a pain in his arse she is. "Pretty sure it's their job to be trouble."

 

"Speaking from experience?"

 

"Definitely." Harry takes in how much ink is on him, from the foreign letters to the most random things like numbers scattered up and down his arm. It takes him back when he realizes how much he wants to know about what it means, even if it's nothing more than him just wanting to get something random. Harry has questions floating about his head but he pulls back and asks instead, "what's your favorite?" Zayn bites down on his bottom lip like he has to think about it, but then he's flipping over and around quickly. Harry pulls back to give him room, trails a hand on what looks like a bird in the middle of his back.

 

"It's a fantail, my dad loves birds. It's his favorite, pretty sure it's the only tat that my parent's don't cringe at every time they see it."

 

 Harry takes it in, strokes up and around it for a bit.

 

"It's lovely," Harry mutters and leans forward, brushes his lips against it. He pulls at Zayn until his face is visible, gets a hand on his cheek and kisses him slow and deep, flicks his tongue against the roof of his mouth, pulls away just as slowly as he started it.

 

"Fuck, we should get it together." Harry nods along but it's another minute before he gets up slowly, frowns at the dried come on his chest and scratches again because it itches like shit and dried come is seriously _the worst_. "Sorry about that," he hears from Zayn as he tugs on his pants and throws on a shirt but Harry looks over and Zayn's smiling, doesn't look particularly sorry about it.

 

"Fuck off," he mumbles without heat, scoffs when Zayn pulls him forward by the collar of his shirt when they're dressed and wraps his arms around him.

 

"This was fun yeah." It's hard for him not to melt into him when he says it so earnestly, has to nod along because it _was_. Fuck Louis for trying to push him away, Zayn's totally into this-- _into him_. Harry really doesn't want to have to go but even if mentally blows Louis off, he's not ready for the awkwardness just yet. He's feeling good when he leaves Louis flat though, feels good enough to go pull Niall away from whatever he's up to and play a game of FIFA or two before practice tonight. After a nice long shower of course.

 

He is until he reaches outside Louis flat and sees him walking up with what looks like a bag of takeout. It's so obvious why Harry would be walking out looking as rough as he does. Harry knows he looks lough, figures that his hair's a moppy mess but he wears it with pride really, because _Zayn_ was the reason and he'd happily have everyone know that. But Louis doesn't look amused, walks up to Harry with an eyebrow arched. Harry feels a little relieved that he doesn't look murderous either, mostly seems bothered more than anything.

 

"You never listen, you damn knob," Louis hisses and then rolls his eyes, sighs heavily.

 

"We're fine, we're just having fun." Louis lets out a bit of a hysterical laugh, drops his bag and scrubs at his face tiredly.

 

"When's the last time you been with someone longer than two months Harry?" Harry blinks at the question, doesn't know how to answer it really. "You know the last time Zayn's been with someone longer than two months? All his goddamn life. Zayn doesn't have fun, he falls in love, every time at every moment. I'm telling you to stay away for both of you mate." Louis picks up his bag. "I just don't want to see him get hurt, you get it right?" He doesn't wait for him to respond, walks away. Harry huffs and wishes Louis had been more of an arse about it. It'd give him a reason to hate him instead of feeling like absolute shit.

* * *

 

Harry's not a slut or anything, he just has a healthy sex life is all. He's in uni, he thinks it's pretty normal to fuck about. It's not like he doesn't make it clear what he's looking for, he makes it pretty clear that he's not interested in a relationship every time. With Zayn...it's not necessarily different. It's not like he's ready to drop down on one knee and make a crazy proposal or anything, but he likes Zayn.

 

Likes him quite a bit.

 

Zayn's fit as fuck, and Harry highlights that probably too much but he is. He's also stupid talented and even more stupidly shy about that even though he should own it like he should own his beauty. He clearly loves his family, trusts his sister to listen to even her craziest ideas and treasures his father enough to get a tat for him.

 

Harry never thought much about relationships. It's not like he has anything against it and it's not like it's hard to be in one. He just liked his freedom, didn't feel particularly interested in anything long term with Taylor, Kendall, Ed, Caroline, Ben, _fuck his list is long_ but he could with Zayn.

 

Maybe.

 

"You think I'm a relationship person?" Niall's buried in some book for his class and it's pretty shitty of Harry to interrupt him. He knows how Niall gets about school. It's hard for him to get into a good spot where he can focus. but when he's in the zone, he's a thousand percent there for keeps. It takes him a minute to even look up from the book, but he does and doesn't look happy about it. "Sorry Ni, but seriously, do you?"

 

"I don't know, I've never seen you in one." Niall shrugs and looks back down at his book, picks up one of the million highlighters spread about his bed and colors in what looks like half the page.

 

"So you think I'm not?"

 

Niall sighs and shuts his book, moves forward until he's on the edge of his bed. "I don't know Harry, I haven't seen you into someone enough to be in one. What's this about?"

 

"Louis doesn't think I am," Harry mutters with a shrug trying for casual, but Niall's his absolute best mate so of course he picks up on his insecurities and figures out just how major this is for him.

 

"You know what I think? I think Louis' not involved in this. This is between you and Zayn love, don't let other people get in your head." Niall drops from the bed and Harry follows him as he leads the way to the living room and drops on the couch. "Zayn likes you yeah, fuck everyone else."

 

"I can totally be in a relationship."

 

"You totally can, mate." Harry thinks that from anyone else it would come off as patronizing, but Niall's actually serious, so earnest and real about it that Harry nods along and stands to turn on the game. "Ready to have your arse kicked?" Niall's a good friend, Harry ruined his study time and he's still distracting him with a game of FIFA because it's the type of person he is.

 

* * *

Harry doesn't really like running on the weekends. It's always busy, with people out and about enjoying the fact that it's the weekend. He usually goes during the week after a long day of classes before it's time for a long period of studying. Running calms him though, and Harry can't deny that he's more than a little wound up about the game. It's a moment of peace, gets him out of his head and stops the thoughts of if they're good enough, if he's good enough, if they can finally push on this time. It slows him down until all he can zone in on is his heart thumping in his chest and his legs burning, the area around him passing in a blur of trees and houses.

 

There's a park a couple of miles down from the campus that he usually does a short jog through, it's a nice spot to slow it down before he goes back out full speed. He usually passes a strip mall a bit further down before before  making his way back to his flat. Harry slows down to a jog when he gets inside, he tries to run in the morning or evening so it's usually almost empty. It's Saturday afternoon though, so it's filled to the brim. Harry dodges by parents with baby strollers and what feels like hundreds of people walking their dogs, makes his way into a little skate park hidden on the far end of the place.

 

He plans on just rounding through it and rolling back around, but Harry stops in his tracks when he sees Zayn. He's leaning down, talking to a little girl with a helmet strapped on her and pads on every possible part of her body. She has one foot on a skateboard and nods avidly while Zayn points to the top of a little kiddy ramp. There are a few more head nods before she hops on her board, skate off fearlessly and suddenly Harry's jogging up into Zayn's line of sight, grins when Zayn breaks out a smile when he sees him.

 

"Hey," Harry breathes out and reaches in his pocket to fish out his phone, pauses his music and strips out his ear buds.

 

"Hey, uh," Zayn looks a little thrown off, maybe even put out by Harry, asks, "what are you doing here?"

 

"Running." Harry eyes him carefully, tries to pick out what's going so wrong here. "Passing through really, everything okay?"

 

"Yeah, `course, um," he looks around the park, makes eye contact with a woman and that same kid that he was talking to. She picks up the little girl and waves a little obnoxiously at Zayn who swears and shakes his head.

  
"Should I go?"

 

"What? No, no, sorry, fuck." Zayn shrugs and takes a breath. "Sorry, that's Lou. She's a gossip and I'm not supposed to be seen talking to you."

 

"Really?"

 

"Louis is..." he trails off then shakes his head. "never mind, fuck it. It doesn't even matter really."

 

"I know, he told me to stay away."

 

"That fucker," Zayn mutters softly, so much so that Harry barely picks it up. "Come with me?" Harry nods easily, catches the way the woman smirks when Zayn passes her by, leads him in and up deeper into the park until they're in a bit of more open space, presumably free from Lou.

 

Harry's not sure what to expect when Zayn leads him away, but he definitely doesn't think it'd be a kiss, with Zayn placing a hand on his chest, the other on his waist, soft and sweet. "Sorry, uh," Zayn mutters when he pulls away, lays his head down on his chest but then reaches back up to press his lips against his once more. "Sorry about Louis I mean, he's an arse." Zayn shakes his head. "I'd rather you not stay away, if you don't want to I mean."

Harry leads him into the kiss this time, makes it just as soft and easy. "I'd rather not either. There's a game tomorrow."

  
"I know, Louis' been going on about it all week," Zayn mutters, shakes his head fondly. Harry takes a step back and leans against the tree behind him, bites down on his bottom lip as he considers asking before he decides to fucking go for it.

 

"You could always come...if you wanted I mean. Not that you have to or anything but..." he trails off with a shrug because it's so not how he wanted to ask and he can't come up with anything to save himself.

 

Zayn smiles though, leans forward to press his lips against him. Harry's sure he's loving just how screwed up he has him. "You're so smooth babe."

 

"You hate football, and your face is stupid distracting."

 

"We're back at this again huh?" Harry really likes kissing Zayn, enjoys the way his lips feels against his so he leans forward instead of responding. Zayn presses him into the tree and Harry licks down from his lips to his chin, nibbles softly and pulls away. "Should I wear your jersey then?"

 

Harry never really thought about that, but now that the idea's out there...

 

"You're really too easy." He should feel put out by the way Zayn's teasing him, but he has a hand under his tank top, thumbs at his nipple and Harry really is too easy because he pushes up into it shamelessly. He slides his hand back down and presses it into his hips. "Louis won't stop talking about how big the game is."

 

"Yeah," Zayn sucks in his bottom lip. "It's pretty massive, if we don't win we're done for."

 

"Well I hear you're pretty great on the field so..."

 

Harry shrugs, not denying it because it's true and smiles when Zayn throws his head back laughing.

 

"So humble too babe."

 

"We could still...it's not just about me ya' know," Harry mutters out. He doesn't do well with opening up and he is confident, hell cocky even sometimes, but there's a general fear there. Bubbling underneath because he knows it's all or nothing at this moment for them.

 

"But you will," Zayn says firmly, nods like he's absolutely certain in their ability to make this happen. "And I'll be there to cheer you on."

 

"Yeah."

 

 

 

 

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> find me on [tumblr](http://dippedanddrapped.tumblr.com/)


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